


Exposure

by Ian_Shea



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-17 21:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4682765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ian_Shea/pseuds/Ian_Shea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico di Angelo is a photography major at Mount Olympus University. Will Solace is studying pre-med. Nico spends his days with film developer and red lights while Will spends his with anatomical diagrams and coffee. There was never any reason for their paths to cross until one day, they did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Darkroom

The chemical stench of film developer and fixer assaults Nico’s senses, causing his nose to itch and his eyes to water. His hands sting and crack as they are consistently dunked from one ice cold tub to the next. Liquid sloshes and splashes against metal and plastic with the rhythm of Nico’s arm movements as he agitates the toxic magic in front of him. A delicate process, one that requires the patience of a saint, the mind of a chemist, and the vision of a revolutionary; A process that with practice yields beauty unlike any other.

It is in this dark, damp room, filled with a soft, red glow that Nico di Angelo feels most at home. Blocked off from the lights and sounds of the rest of the world, protected by the barrier of dense fumes, he spends his hours unbothered by others. Seldom does another soul venture into his domain for they quickly find themselves deterred by the low visibility and the borderline foul smell. Very few are willing to subject themselves to the inevitable cracked skin, blurry vision, and pounding headaches that accompany a stay in the dark room.

In a weird way, Nico enjoys the pain. The toil.

In his eyes, it makes his art that much more beautiful when it’s finished.  
He dips a hand into the frigid whirlpool of water and catches a soggy sheet of paper between his fingertips. Slowly, with both hands cradling the fragile page, he lifts his latest masterpiece from the bath. With a gentle touch, he wipes away the excess water before tenderly lifting the page, transferring it to the mesh wire rack to dry.

The intimate dance between the artist and his creation is finished and its product is a sight beautiful to behold.


	2. Chapter 2

THUNK.

Will Solace’s desk shuddered as his forehead connected with the wooden surface. I do not have enough caffeine in my system for this, he thought. The clock on his nightstand flashed glowing red numbers alerting Will that it was 10:47 at night. The Starbucks on campus doesn’t close until midnight, right? With a sigh, the blonde-haired pre-med student pushed himself away from his desk and scooped up his anatomy homework. Shoving the materials into his backpack, he exited his room, locking the door behind him, and began making his way towards the overpriced but beloved coffee shop.

 

The shop was relatively empty at this time of night with the exception of a couple late-night stragglers trying to cram as much information and caffeine into their systems as possible--Will included--as he spread out his studying materials on the table of his favorite booth, tucked into the far corner of the shop between a coffee-colored wall and a floor-to-ceiling window pane. He gulped his coffee—a caramel latte—and grimaced as the steaming liquid seared his mouth and throat. I have got to finish these last three chapters. 

Just three more chapters, then I’ll wake up early tomorrow, go to the library, and study some more. Just three more chapters, tonight.

Will repeated his mantra after each page, pushing himself forward, forcing his eyelids to stay open for just one more chapter, one more page, one more paragraph…

He woke up to someone lightly tapping his shoulder.

“Sir? We’re closing now. You’re going to have to leave,” the barista said when Will opened his eyes. He lifted his head from where it had landed atop his anatomy textbook, peeling the drool-plastered page off of his forehead. Flushed with embarrassment, Will muttered a “sorry” and quickly gathered his things before rushing out the door and onto the dark sidewalk, starting his trek back to his dorm and his bed, giving up on studying for the rest of the night.

 

Across the street from Starbucks, a boy in dark clothing sat on a decrepit-looking bench with an old film camera, now containing a tiny square of photosensitive material imprinted with the image of a haggard-looking young man with a halo of light illuminating his curly, blonde hair.


End file.
